Halo: Desolation
by l Supah l
Summary: *Non-Canon When a Pelican and Phantom both crash land in a mysterious jungle, the survivors of the crash are left in the dark without any communication, with only eachother to rely on to face the coming danger. When all goes to hell, will the human and Covenant soldiers set aside their differences to survive the threat that faces them? Reviews and criticism greatly appreciated!
1. Crash and Burn

**Disclaimer:** I don't own halo, nor do I claim to, blah blah, you heard this all before! You get the point.

 **A/N:** This is my first fanfiction. R and R would be greatly appreciated, I would love to improve any way I can.

Darkness and fog hung over the thick jungle like a heavy drape, smothering the ashen-gray bark on the trees and foliage with a wispy white blanket. Mysteriously, no life scurried among the lush undergrowth, the ground floor was unnervingly quiet. From the hidden foliage that carpeted the dry dirt, the canopy of the Jungle's trees was completely lost to view because of the shifting sea of smoke, which jealously guarded the leaves on the trees from any prying eyes below.

The dead jungle held a silence of three parts.

The first silence was common, the quiet stemmed from nothing causing noise. While the area was quite devoid of life on the ground, the thick canopy boxing the scene of the desolate area beneath let off no alarms to the Pelican and Phantom flying above the trees, the two ships intertwining and diving away from eachother as they each desperately tried to stay airbourne, counterattacking eachother meanwhile.

The second silence was that which was tarnished. The crisp air held no sounds of birds chirping in the trees, or bugs scurrying among the decaying leaves of the trees, it was the peaceful state of serenity that had settled over the area for so long. The two ships cut theough the still air above the disapproving trees, desperately trying to outmaneuver eachother as the Jungle held its ears.

The third silence was far more difficult to detect. This was the constant act of the Jungle below trying to hush the meddling ships above. From a clearing ahead of the two invading vessels, a small array of dull gray columns slipped from the ground noiselessly, melting into the backdrop of the trees, patiently awaiting the arrival of the intruders. As the two oblivious ships neared the clearing, the columns sprung to action, flaring blue as they charged their powerful beams, ready to unleash upon the ignorant tresspassers above.

In a flash, the columns blasted the ships with powerful beams of energy, blue arcs flew from the heart of the Jungle to crash into their sides, illuminating the starry night sky with brilliant blue explosions. The impact completely caught the pilots off guard, and the ships started to spiral out of control. Unable to steer effectively, the vessels met the dense canopy head on, tearing a deep gouge through clusters of trees as they collided with the ground in a dramatic display of orange and purple fire.

After a mere thirty seconds, the two ships lay in ruin a thousand feet from one another, the twisted gray and purple metals of the Phantom and Pelican glared at eachother between the trunks of the massive trees.

As quickly as it had started, it was all over. The ships let out their last sputters and died, and the Jungle quieted down once more as the fog crept upon the scene, swallowing the destruction in a ghostlike curtain as the Jungle rightfully reclaimed its third silence.


	2. First Contact

[REWORKED]

Marcos awakened from the the floor of the pelican with a splitting headache. Slowly stirring from his unconscious state, the marine let out a groan as he shifted around painfully on the cold metal, his mind was a train wreck of negative thoughts. 'Did our marines survive the crash?...' 'Where is everyone?...' 'Are those damn Covies coming?...'

The soldier mustered enough willpower to try and stand up. Slowly, he pushed himself off of the floor with two hands, bringing a knee under his chest for support. As he moved his leg, a horrible feeling flared in his stomach and he fell to the floor in a heap, a silent scream upon his lips. Marcos rolled to the side after a few moments of laying still, grimly noting he was laying in a small pool of his own blood which was slowly trickling from a deep red gash on his midsection.

As the marine struggled to pull himself to a standing position, he became aware of the many cuts and bruises crisscrossing his body, along with the dull ache of the gash along his stomach. The marine grimaced as his wounds screamed against the sudden movement in protest. Eventually, after what seemed like hours, Marcos finally managed to plant himself upright on two feet, leaning heavily on the wall of the Pelican.

The first thing he noticed after pulling himself off the floor was that his thought was unfortunately correct, none of his platoon was aboard the crashed ship with him. Had they abandoned him, thinking he was dead? Trying to stay calm, Marcos pushed the thought out of his mind and looked around the room.

The weapon racks were all empty, not a single gun was left on the sides of the seats, which puzzled the marine, as there were far more weapons than any men aboard the craft when it had touched down. Had the Covenant come and stolen them during his sleep?

While he did not see any weapons inside the Pelican, he still felt the reassuring weight of his magnum holstered to his left hip, which brought some sense of comfort to the unnerved marine. Inspecting the rest of the Pelican, he made out a shape at the back of the ship, hidden by the black of night. Fingering his holster, he released his magnum and turned on the light at the end of the weapon, illuminating the figure of a foggy eyed marine slumped against the seat, a chunk of the wall protruding from his chest. Marcos gazed at the scene in horror, his bottom lip quivering in shock. He got ahold of his senses and snapped out of the moment with a shake of his head, reaching for his radio as he made a desperate attempt to contact his platoon. Speaking with panic lining his voice, he almost shouted out the words "This is Marcos, I repeat, this is Lieutenant Marcos of the East Company Raiders, our ship has been hit, does anybody-" but was abruptly cut off by the sound of a needle ricocheting off the side of the hatch a few inches from his face. As he took a step back in surprise, his right knee buckled from beneath him and he tumbled out of the Pelican, landing flat on his back on the dry dirt.

The injured marine laid completely still as the dust settled around him. The impact with the ground put stars in his eyes, and a fire ignited along his wounds once more, the gash on his midsection flaring again. To make matters worse, he dropped the magnum when he hit the dirt and it had landed just out of arm's reach. Laying on the ground, the marine tried to steady his heavy breathing as he peered off to his right to see the silhouette of a humanoid creature come out from behind a tree, its form outlined by the dense fog that clung to the area. After a few seconds it walked into view past the bushes.

It was wearing green combat armor, and carried a... wait! Marcos' spirits soared, it was another marine from his platoon!

Watching the marine slowly shuffle into his blurry view, the grin upon Marcos's face slowly vanished, and his heart sank into his boots as he took in the image before him. The creature definitely looked like Private Gunny from his platoon, but the soldier had a revolting green muck stuck to his combat armor. In place of his arm was a long, knife-like limb, and a strange pod was sticking out of his chest waving tentacles in the air. The head was the most terrible part of this abomination, the neck was snapped back over the marine's shoulder, and no light shone in the soulless eyes of the terrible creature, whose blank gaze was set on one of the gray trees. Marcos did his best to keep as still as possible to not attract attention to himself, but he couldn't help moving his head to try and get a peek at his attacker.

Marcos stuck his neck out past the mound of dirt blocking his sight and spotted him, a lone Jackal sitting behind a rock above the Pelican with a needle rifle in hand. It opened it's beak and screeched at what used to be Gunny as it opened fire.

Jackals are infamously known by the UNSC for their marksmanship, but this Jackal was clearly disturbed by the image of the undead soldier limping towards it. Fear shone in the alien's eyes as it fired, shaky hands causing his needles to go off track. Out of three shots, only one found their mark, and it was ineffective. The beast didn't recoil in the slightest after being shot in the throat by the pink needle, instead it sprung at the Jackal and pinned it down, beating on it with its massive arm. A bloodcurdling screech from the Jackal sounded through the jungle as the beast tore into it, followed by complete silence from the Covenant trooper.

All Marcos could hear for the next five minutes was crunching from the Jackal's corpse being slowly broken apart. 'I'm next!' he thought, his heart pounding. Closing his eyes, he ran a quick prayer through his mind, hoping that something would save him from the certain death that was approaching. Marcos was not the religious type, but it was a moment of desperation, there was nothing to do except hope. He closed his eyes and willed himself to wake up, hoping it was all some nightmare.

Opening his eyes, the loud squelching that came from the Jackal's body being smashed stopped. The marine couldn't believe it, had it actually been part of his imagination?

A moment later, Gunny dropped from the rock into Marcos' view.

Apparently it hadn't.

The beast had stopped trying to grind the Jackal's body into dust and instead turned its attention to a newer, fresh body. Marcos.

As it shuffled over, the marine let out a weak whine, too weak to get up and run away. Turning his head away from the lumbering monstrosity, he ran one final prayer through his mind as he prepared to die. Right before the creature was on top of him, a loud SNAP of a Covenant sniper sounded behind him, and the awful being that used to be Gunny dropped dead.

His savior placed their step close to his leg, and Marcos looked at the red armor-clad hoof in front of him and couldn't decide wether to be overjoyed or terrified.

The red Elite looked down at the creature it killed with the beam rifle in its hands and curled its upper mandible into what seemed to be a snarl.

Apparently, he also was not a fan of undead soldiers.

Under the cover of dark, the Elite had not detected Marcos, who was laying still in the dirt. As the alien stepped towards the creature he had just killed, it kicked Marcos hard in the ribs. The marine let out a pained grunt, unfortunately catching the alien's attention. Whipping around, the Elite pointed the beam rifle at Marcos, staring him down with snake-like eyes, pointing the barrel of the rifle at his head.

The air was thick with tension.

The alien's narrowed eyes bore into his own, but the Elite did not fire. For what reason, Marcos did not know, but he was not keen on questioning it at the moment, he was just glad to be spared.

Suddenly, a bullet smacked against the Elite's head, deflected by his armor's shields. The sound of automatic gunfire beat through the jungle as two of Marcos' fellow marines emerged from the tree line, firing their weapons at the alien, who rolled out of the way just as his shields popped. While retreating, he moaned in agony and stumbled as a stray bullet from the assault rifle barrage entered his side, which he clasped with his hand as he ran off into the jungle, his form disappearing into the fog. The two marines high fived eachother, whooting and cheering as they jogged over to the prone figure of Marcos, who was still crumpled on the ground watching the whole scenario play out.

"Woah! Look who's awake! Enjoy your nap?" said a sarcastic Lance Corporal Vato. "Come on man, let's get 'em up, we gotta get outta here! Place is crawling with those little freaks." shot Private Kues, the stocky young soldier held a worried expression as he urged his ally to help. Vato gave a curt nod in response, and the two slowly helped their comerade to his feet. The three began to make their way slowly through the jungle in concentration, listening for any out of place noises as they stomped along through the looming trees at a snail's pace. No one tried to make conversation, the walk was seemingly endless.

Sometime during the bumps and slips of the trek, Marcos drifted off to unconsciousness once more, unable to keep his aching eyelids from closing.


	3. The Plan

"Yo, Marco, rise and shine!" said an annoying, cheery voice that pulled Marcos from his deep slumber. "Come on man, wake up, I'm not your baby sitter." the voice persisted, as a hand shook his shoulder, much to his displeasure. Rubbing his heavy eyelids, Marcos lazily flipped onto his side and eventually tried to stand up, but he let out a hiss as a sharp pain jabbed at his ribs when he shifted his body to push himself off the ground. The memory of last night's events came rushing back all at once. The crash, falling out of the Pelican, the abomination that wore the face of his friend Gunny, and of course, the most mysterious encounter of them all.

His enemy, the Elite, who had spared his life.

"Shit, you all right, bud?" said Vato, as he and Kues put their arms around Marcos to make sure he didn't fall. "Yeah yeah, I'll be fine, thanks." said Marcos, teetering on his own feet after his allies released him. Finally steadying himself on a tree, he looked around where he was standing. Him and his comerades were on a large hill overlooking the giant gouge in the jungle that was caused by the two ships crash landing. It was very early in the morning, still quite dark, as the sun had barely risen past the tops of the trees.

Plucking a pair of binoculars from his utility belt, Marcos peered down at the crash, spotting the familiar red Elite from last night, and he appeared to be searching for something desparately. The alien was tearing small chunks of the wall of the ship off with its hands with the energy blades under his gauntlets, however he couldn't make out whatever it was the Elite was trying to find.

Marcos turned to his squad mates and reported what he saw, but Vato waved him off. "We'll deal with our squid faced pal later, there's bigger fish to fry, Marco. First, we gotta speak about last night." he said, a grim expression clouding his face.

The three looked at each other in a moment of silence, none were eager to relive the past night's awful events. Kues wore a solemn face as he said "You know, we didn't leave you." Marcos looked at him curiously. "After the crash, I mean. The Sarge brought us two along with him to check out that Phantom, see if any of the covies were still kicking. The rest of our platoon.." he looked down, shaking his head. "As soon as we left the Pelican, we heard sounds of gunfire and yelling. We ran back as fast as we could, but when we got there it was like something out of a horror show. These damn brown pods were everywhere, never seen anything like it. They swarmed over Gunny before we realized what was happening!" he exclaimed, pain evident on his face. "He died because I stood there like a deer in the fucking headlights instead of actually doing anything about it! That thing latched onto him, cut up his chest, man. I was in shock." His pleading eyes locked with Marcos, almost begging him to understand. "I didn't know what to do." His last words barely came out as a whisper, his voice cracking before the end of the story. Vato took over talking, putting a comforting hand on the shaking Kuis' shoulder. "There was nothing anyone could do, there were just too many of those pods to fight. The rest of the marines scattered off into different directions with those things chasing them, including us and the Sarge, but somewhere along the line we got split up. We're not sure if anyone else is alive, we tried raising them on our radios, but something around here is scrambling the signal on all our communications, which means we can't even send out a beacon for evac until we find out what it is."

"Speaking of yesterday..." started Marcos, drawing their eyes. "Last night, I was attacked when I got up. A Jackal shot at me and missed, but I fell and laid there on the floor. You're not gonna believe me, but I saw Gunny when I fell out. In fact, he came over and tried to kill me, but that red Elite put 'em down. Pretty sure he didn't see me when he killed it, but when he was walking over to look at Gunny's body he noticed me. That's when you guys showed up and chased him off. Anyways, one of those pods you guys were talking about was burrowed into Gunny's chest, it's like it took control of his body or something..." Vato frowned. "I thought I recognized him when we found you. After chasing that Elite off, we saw the body, just kind of hoped we were wrong about our conclusion."

Shaking his head, he looked away towards the twisted wreckage of their Pelican in deep thought. The silence that hung over the jungle overtook their group, and the three pondered the gravity of their current situation. They were in the middle of an unmapped jungle with Covenant soldiers that could be around any bend, a strange enemy none of them had ever seen or heard of before that had the ability to transform their own allies into zombie-like creatures, and communications with their fellow marines were severed completely. Worst of all, the jungle around them seemed to stretch endlessly, and there was the possibility that nobody at HQ even knew where they were. Even if a search party were deployed to look for them in the area, their ship would surely get shot down in the same way that it happened to the other two crashed vessels, as they would have no warning before hand.

Simply put, they were up shit creek, without a paddle.

Vato turned around and faced his squad, sighing heavily. "Well, let's get a move on, boys. Pack your things, we're headed out."

Puzzled, the two other marines looked at him as if he were crazy. "Where could we possibly go?" Said Kues, his voice equally lined with curiosity and frustration. Slapping a new mag into his DMR, Vato explained "Those pod things aren't there at the crash anymore. Otherwise our alien friend wouldn't be there right now, searching for something like Marco here told us. We're gonna go down there, see if there's anything we can scavenge from our Pelican, and raise some hell to those Covies!"

"Oohrah!" cried the three armed soldiers, starting down the hill towards the the crash site with newfound vigor. "Oh, and Marco?" said Vato, a slight grin upon his lips. "I thought you'd want this back." He said, handing the marine the magnum he dropped the previous night. Marcos gave him a thankful nod, and the three continued on.


	4. Khazo

[REWORKED]

Khazo clutched his bleeding side with his hand as he ran through the thick maze of the ashy gray trees. After a while, he started to slow down, realizing that the foul humans were not on his trail. He was already in an unpleasant mood after being shot, but his expression soured even more as he looked in the direction where he came from. The foliage and bark of the trees he had passed were smeared with dark purple drops of blood, almost like a trail of breadcrumbs. Khazo knew that if the humans were to come looking, it wouldn't be hard to locate him. He flicked a mandible in frustration, if only his beam rifle wouldn't have ran out of charge when he killed that creature, the humans that injured him would have had no chance. To think that he accidentally saved one of the enemy as well! Trying to calm himself down and ease the stinging pain from the fresh bullet wound, he slowed his trot to a halt and sat down, his back to the trunk of one of the trees.

Unlike most of his fellow Sangheili, Khazo did not believe in the glory of death. When he was given the two choices of either charging the two humans with his bladed gauntlets or fleeing, he chose to flee, not because he was a coward, but because he had a sense of pragmatism others did not seem to have. Reasoning that he had no chance at killing even one of his enemies before he would be reduced to a bullet hole ridden corpse, Khazo chose to live and face them another time rather than dying in an idiotic way.

The Elite looked at the bullet hole above his hip with a pained face. Assessing his injury, he found both the sweet and sour ways of looking at it. On one hand, the bullet apparently had not torn any of his major organs, if it did he would not have been alive long enough to run away to where he was currently. That was the sweet. On the other hand, he was losing a lot of blood, and had nothing to stop the flow. Khazo's purple blood seeped through his fingertips, he was already losing strength, and knew something had to be done quickly. Uneasily, he lit up the blade on his gauntlet, and knew what he had to do. Taking in a deep breath, Khazo glared at the glowing dagger in front of him for some time before he hardened his eyes, and slowly stuck the blade in his wound.

Khoze let out a mighty roar through the jungle as the energy blade entered and seared his flesh, closing his wound shut. After an excruciating few seconds, he pulled it out and looked down at the bullet hole he had just cauterized with his dagger. The blood had stopped flowing, but he was fully aware that only half of the suffering was through with, the same has to be done to the other side where the bullet had entered. Grimacing, he brought up the dagger one more time and sealed the other wound, undergoing the same terrible process.

After retracting the blade, Khazo fell onto one knee, shivering from the intense pain, breathing heavily. He planned to find the crash site of the Phantom to see if he could hail the mothership for any form of support, but he needed to rest, the pain was far too great to continue on.

Unexpectedly, the bush in front of Khazo shook, something was trying to come through. Doing his best to brush aside the pain, he pushed himself off the floor and got behind a tree, activating his armor's camoflauge, causing his body to disappear against the background. The sudden movement made it feel as if someone was holding a hot brand to his skin, but he dared not cry out in pain, for he did not want to risk being discovered.

The bush parted revealing a lone marine carrying a shotgun. He bore scratches on his tunic and armor, and shuffled along quickly with a limp. An emotion unknown to the hidden Sangheili was twinkling in the human's narrowed eyes. "Come on, you maggots!" he exclaimed, turning to face the large mass of the pod creatures that were persuing him. He blasted the crowd once, twice, three times as he backed away from the seemingly never ending tide of enemies. Khazo watched the marine mow down hordes of the foul creatures in awe, but did not interfere, for he was in no shape to help, even if he'd wanted to. Eventually, the valiant human's weapon clicked empty, and his eyes opened in shock. Before he could react, a pod sprung at him and wrapped its tentacles around the yelling soldier. Under the mass of writhing tentacles covering the doomed soul, Khazo spotted the soldier pull out a grenade from his belt while his chest was being torn open, but it didn't go off. Instead, it simply rolled out of the dead man's hand towards the still cloaked Elite, where it stopped against his hoof.

Khoze couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the human. Yes, they were enemies in a war, but no being deserved a fate as gruesome and terrible as that. He stood completely still until the herd of pods dispersed from the dead man, their duty seemed to be finished.

The Elite stood there for a long while as the last of the pods scuttled off into the forest, taking time to make sure the creatures were nowhere in sight. Uncloaking himself, he took a step towards the body, which was slowly rising from the ground, the body being controlled by the pod. Disgusted, Khazo flipped the soldier onto his back and stabbed at the parasite that was burrowed into his chest with his blade, popping the unholy thing and stilling the corpse once more.

It was a long walk back to the Phantom's crash site, Khazo tread carefully to not make any unnecessary noise. Eventually, the pain from his wound had slowly begun to fade away, but not entirely. Every so often he would stumble and bump into a tree, causing the fire in his side to return once more, but he managed to keep pressing onward. 'If only I hadn't gone to investigate the Jackal's gunfire,' the Elite thought bitterly.

When he had finally reached the edge of the tree line around the downed Phantom, the sun started to peek through the leaves of the canopy above him. The orange glow that shone off the leaves of the strange plants almost made the place look beautiful.

Khazo once again attempted to contact the rest of his lance via comms, but he was met with the same silence as before. Shaking his head, he continued towards the ship, hoping to find the communication systems intact, but a negative thought in the back of his mind told him that whatever he was going to find wouldn't be working.

When he got close to the ship he heard something strange emanating from the center of the hunk of deformed purple metal.

Was it... tapping?

'Either I am mad, or-' his thought was cut off, there it was again! Three muffled, evenly spaced taps against the hull of the craft were heard once again, the sound was definitely coming from something inside. The Elite paced around the ship in confusion. 'I would have seen if anyone was here when I woke from the crash...'

The tapping definitely wasn't any sort of machinery. If it was one of his allies, leaving them trapped inside the destroyed Phantom would surely guarantee their death, as they clearly had no means of escape. However, he was close to enemy territory and was worried about the parasites returning. Maybe if he could quickly run and search for help...

No, that wasn't going to happen. He would sooner die himself than turn away an ally in dire need of help. Khazo activated the blades under his gauntlets and stabbed into the purple metal, straining himself as he tore off a small chunk of the wall, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

Muscles on his arms bulging, it took all of his strength to cut a hole through the wall, prying away the thick metal bit by bit. He worked for almost an hour despite his wound's strong protests, the dull ache returning to his side once more. Eventually, the small cut in the wall turned into a hole that was big enough to fit through, so Khazo relaxed and retracted the blades on his gauntlet. Thankfully, the hard part was over.

With difficulty, the Elite wormed his body through the small tear he had created and emerged on the inside of the vessel, falling to the floor in an awkward way. Strangely, the air was freezing, despite the jungle outside the ship being very warm, which did not sit well with the cold blooded elite. Khazo chalked the cold air up to the temperature regulator aboard the ship malfunctioning because of the impact and shook it off, looking about the rest of the room he had opened. This side of the Phantom was sealed off from the other area he emerged from previously, as the ceiling broke off and landed in the center of the room, covering the gravity lift and splitting off the ship into two sections. Turning his attention away from the destruction, Khazo heard the taps at the back of the ship and turned his head, his jaws hanging open in shock. There, gathered in the shadows at the back of the ice-cold room, were five Covenant soldiers huddling together looking at him with unreadable expressions, along with another minor Elite stretched out on the floor with his hand touching the wall, this was clearly the one who was tapping. Khazo approached the mass of huddled Grunts and Jackals and stopped in front of them, none had moved an inch. Gently, he tapped the side of a Grunt's head with his long finger, and it let off a soft tink noise. He backed away from the mass of bodies as realization dawned upon his face, they were all frozen solid.

He arrived far too late for them.

Cursing, Khazo walked over to the minor and slung his arm over his shoulder, trying his best not to stagger under the Elite's weight while he carried him out of the ship, as the soldier was too weak to walk on his own. The Elite allowed himself a small smile, his judgement had at least saved one life from certain death.

Khazo went back into the Phantom to relieve one of the Jackals of their needle rifle, disturbing him greatly. When he tried to take the weapon, the Jackal's fingers snapped off, causing Khazo to recoil in surprise. He has dealt with death in the past, and killed even more, but this was an entirely different beast. He was not particularly fond of the Kig-Yar, yet staring into the eyes of the Jackals, he could almost feel their final moments of fear and anguish as the blood in their veins turned to ice.

Khazo emerged from the Phantom and once again fell to the floor after climbing out of the hole. He stood up a few feet across from Xure 'Rekee, the minor who he'd rescued, with nothing to say, for he was not the best with comforting words.

The blue minor mustered enough strength to speak. "Major... I owe you my life." He muttered gratefully to Khazo, who simply shook his head. "No, you do not. It is what comerades do." he said, clasping the Elite on the shoulder. "Are you able to walk?"

Xure thought for a moment before nodding and the Major backed away, giving him room to stand. The frost on the Elite's armor cracked and flaked away as he uncurled himself from the floor, stretching his stiff limbs. He could feel the blood pulsing in every part of his body, a surge of liquid pumping through his veins. It was a strange yet powerful feeling, almost as if he had just stepped into a new body.

Xure was not quick to complain about his stiff body, for he knew he was very lucky. If his suit did not come equipped with a core temperature regulation system, he would have been frozen solid along with the rest of the Covenant in the Phantom. Not to mention the fact that Khazo, the Major, of all people, had found him because of his desparate tapping on the walls of the ship. He had difficulty opening his fingers and was still shivering, but the early morning sunshine was warming his skin, making him feel better by the second.

"Excellent, it seems you can. Take this," said the Khazo, handing the minor a needle rifle. "We're going to need it. Since you were trapped inside the ship, the parasites could not harm you. Nothing will protect you now." he said, warning in his voice. "The parasite?" questioned Xure, disbelief in his voice. "You mean th-" "Yes, that same parasite. The flood." interrupted Khazo seriously. He let his words sink in with the minor for a few moments when he heard the trees behind him shift with his keen hearing. "Ready your weapon, here they come now!" He said as he whipped around to face the noise.

A growl rising in his throat, Khazo glared at the three green combat armored soldiers in front of him as they revealed themselves one by one from the treeline. He cursed to himself, tightening his grip on the needle rifle. They couldn't have chosen a worse time to show up.

The soldier in the middle, whose tag that hung over his neck read "DAVID B. VATO" grinned wickedly as he pulled the pin on a frag grenade.

"Miss me, pal?"


	5. Butting Heads

**A/N:** _Very long chapter! Worked all day on this, hope you enjoy the read ;)_

 _But, before we get into that, I wanna say a few things. Mainly, thank you all for the feedback! For some strange, annoying reason, I can't see your comments on my story, so I've decided to respond to you lot in the chapters themselves. On this chapter I've decided to leave it for the end, but please let me know if it would be better elsewhere!_

 _on a side note..._

 _Took the time to rewrite LOTS of chapters, including the intro, "Crash and Burn", chapter 2: "First Contact", and most importantly, chapter 4: "Khazo". The intro and chapter I just added a lot of details to, writing the past few days has really strengthened my vocabulary, so I've decided to touch up on a few things. However, on chapter 4 I added a lot of things, including a new character! Give 'em a re-read if you want!_

 ** _Anyways, on to the story!_**

The two Elites shared a quick glance between eachother before rolling in opposite directions to dodge the airbourne grenade that flew from the still grinning marine's hand. Both were sideways in the air as the bomb exploded between them, damaging their shields and bringing up a blue film of energy around their armor. To the marines watching, it looked almost synchronized, like it was part of a play.

Snapping out of their brief moment of awe, the soldiers charged forward, raising their assault rifles towards Xure, who ducked under a piece of the destroyed Phantom's hull.

Still recovering from his sub-zero misadventure, the Sangheili could not steady his shaky aim. The needles from his weapon flew harmlessly past their marks, sticking into the trees behind the charging humans who had taken cover behind the other end of the metal he had his back on, putting the soldiers in a sort of standoff. The three marines took shots at Xure, who then countered with a few unsuccessful needles in their direction before ducking once more.

'Blast these infernal humans!' he thought as his upper mandible bent into an "L" shape, a Sangheili's take on gritting teeth.

o

Khazo's shields completely popped from taking the blast of the grenade, so he was forced to take cover straight away. Tough as he may have been, the Elite was no fool. Another bullet wound would be the end of him, and he knew it.

After his HUD indicated that the shields were recharged, he leapt out from behind cover and took a few shots at the soldier closest to Xure, grazing his arm and landing one just under his shoulder, to which the marine responded with a satisfying yelp.

o

Kuis howled as the needle entered his flesh, grasping it and yanking out the crystal just as it went off in a tiny explosion. He could no longer hold his assault rifle without the use of his left arm, so he quickly unholstered his magnum with his other hand, firing towards the red Elite behind a tree that had just shot him. Quickly, he ran around to his enemy's exposed flank, landing a few quick shots that were deflected by his shields. "Why don't you take that armor off so we can have a fair fight, eh?" He yelled over the sounds of gunfire, reloading his magnum behind a tree. Kuis heard the red Elite click a mandible as he sent a few more needles whizzing past his head. Sweat appeared on the young soldier's brow, that was twice in the past minute he had come within an inch of dying. A grin spread across his features, he lived for this kind of adrenaline rush!

"Come on, bastard! Let's dance!" He exclaimed, rolling behind a fallen log, taking cover closer to the alien.

o

Puzzled, Khazo stopped suppressing the marine for a moment to replace the empty cartridge in the needle rifle. Was this soldier mad? If he didn't know any better, he could've sworn the human was having... fun.

While being shot at!

The Elite left the strange thought and returned to firing at the human, who had gotten a little too close for comfort, as the rifle Khazo held favored medium to long range combat as opposed to short range engagements. Retreating to a nearby tree, he slung the rifle over his back and flicked his wrists, releasing the white hot energy daggers from his gauntlets, and waited for the right moment to jump out at the marine.

His back to the tree, Khazo stole a quick peek in front of him to see if there was anything around he could take cover behind, but as he took in the scene before him the blades on his gauntlets retracted, and his arms fell to his side.

Eyes wide with fear, the Elite looked towards his comerade, still behind the cover of the Phantom. "Xure, we must go!"

o

After a moment's prayer, Kuis swallowed the lump in his throat and stood up, charging to the alien's cover with a war cry. Right as he reached the edge of the tree, the Elite rounded the bend and rammed him hard with his shoulder pad, sending him flying across the dirt.

Finally skidding to a stop, Kuis shakily stood up and collected the magnum. 'Man, what a linebacker that guy could make,' he thought, smacking the side of his helmet to combat the dizziness. Looking around, the soldier noticed that everyone, including the two aliens, had seemingly disappeared, leaving him standing looking into the trees in confusion.

"Move!"

The deafening boom of a magnum sounded off behind his head, making his ears ring.

Marcos turned him around, moving his lips, but no sound escaped. Frustrated, the marine grabbed his arm and pulled him urgently, shouting something, but Kuis couldn't make out what it was, all he heard was the painful ringing. Marcos let go of his arm and turned around in a full on sprint towards Vato, who was chasing down the two Elites through the trees. Kuis followed along just as fast, completely lost as to what was happening. A moment ago they were all in a firefight, and now it seemed like everyone was in on a nice game of tag!

Up ahead, the two aliens nodded at eachother, turning to throw two plasma grenades that arced over Kuis, who looked back over his shoulder to see where they had landed.

His eyes widened at the sight before him. As if someone flipped a switch in his brain, Kuis realized what everyone was running from.

A tide of the terrifying brown pod creatures were hot on their trail, only about fifty feet away, and gaining ground. The Elites were not trying to hit any of his squad mates, instead they were aiming for the mass of creatures. The grenades stuck to the parasites in the lead, enveloping many of the creatures in a brilliant blue explosion, but their victory was short lived, as the pods who were just destroyed had their places filled by the masses behind them.

While they were running, Kuis's hearing had started to return to normal, the ringing gradually fading away. The sound of heavy breathing, footsteps, and the gag-enducing squelching noises that came from the pods filled the air, mixing with the occasional sharp crack from someone's weapon, along with the meaty boom of grenades that were chucked at the parasites who were slowly gaining on them.

o

Khazo's needle rifle clicked empty. Reaching for another cartridge, he grunted in frustration as his hand grasped empty air. He was completely out of ammo. The marines that were sprinting just behind him and Xure were still firing at the infection forms, but it was only a matter of time before they were empty as well.

The combined beat of his two hearts was pounding against his chest, Khazo was beginning to tire. 'To think that the parasite will be my undoing.' He thought grimly, doing his best to pace his breathing.

o

Marcos tried his best to block out the pain continue running. He had still not recovered from his injury completely, so every step he took felt like a knife stabbing into his stomach, but he knew slowing down was out of the question. The moment he did, he would be swarmed and consumed by the pods that were still persuing him. Up ahead, he saw the red Elite nudge the blue one, pointing at a gray structure up ahead partially hidden by a cluster of trees. As the group got closer, the full structure came into view, revealing that it was an entrance, almost like a cave, going down into the side of the hill. With no good options, everyone pressed on towards the mouth of the cave, slightly slowing down as the exhaustion started to set in.

Past the entrance of the structure was a massive tunnel, dotted with holes in the wall that were spewing dozens of strange flying robots who briskly passed the confused soldiers, paying them no mind as they rushed to meet the tide of the parasites who had almost caught up to the group.

The robots above them beamed powerful heat rays at the creatures, killing them off one by one with the scalding lasers as the runners scurried under them.

Not questioning the machines, the group kept running past the defensive line the robots had formed for some time, until the red Elite in the lead abruptly stopped and placed his hand on a wall, gasping for air.

Kuis and his comerades did the same as well, as he sat down and put his hand over the injury the red alien had caused, too tired to move.

When Khazo was finished catching his breath, he whipped around to face the three humans, who were beginning to stand. Curling his upper mandibles into a snarl, the blades on his gauntlets ignited as he shifted into a defensive stance. The three humans trained their weapons on him and Xure, but one lowered his gun to speak. "You." said the soldier, nodding towards Khazo. "We've met before."

The Elite did not respond.

"You saved me from that infected marine... Why?" he asked as he let his guard down, taking a small step towards the red Elite.

Faster than anyone had thought possible, Khazo lunged forward and grabbed the human's throat with his right hand, the blade on his gauntlet merely centimeters from the soldier's face. "Why did you follow us?" he whispered threateningly, his hand tightening slightly as the other two soldiers moved to his flanks. "Easy now, big fella." said the soldier who had previously thrown the grenade at him. "Now, if it wasn't for us, those things would've been swarming all over your ass a long time ago. Now, I suggest you release my friend before this gets ugly."

Khazo swung his head towards Vato. "You may quit this act, human. I know your weapons are empty. If they weren't, you would have already made an attempt on my life, as you've already done twice now."

The soldier frowned and shifted uncomfortably at that, the alien had called his bluff. Khazo returned his gaze to the human struggling in his grasp. "As for you, the only reason you are still alive is because my weapon ran out of charge when I killed the beast that was coming for you. Remember this." he growled, tossing him to the floor.

Kuis took a step towards Marcos, helping him up from the floor. The Elite's yellow snake-like eyes locked onto his as he continued.

"And you," the alien almost spat out the words at Kuis. "When you shot me, I had to burn my own wound closed to keep myself from bleeding to death."

The marine looked at Khazo in disbelief, staring at the scar on his side. He knew their kind were tough, but the mere thought of burning his own flesh shut, with a HOT KNIFE no less, made his skin shiver. The Elite rotated on its hoof, his eyes became dangerously dark as he looked between the three soldiers. "Give me a reason not to slaughter every one here." demanded Khazo.

o

Kuis chose his next words carefully. "Because," he started slowly, "Vato's right. Without us, you and your little pal would've died back there, torn apart by a hundred of those things at once. Also, judging from how hard little blue here's shaking," Kuis nodded towards Xure, "I assume he's in no condition to fight. During our little tussle he was rattling so hard he dropped his gun. If you go out on your own, you're going to die, and you know it. If any help was coming for you, they would've arrived already. We have to stick together if anyone's going to make it out alive."

Khazo's eyes filled with rage. "You shot me after I rescued your comerade, and attacked us without warning. Why would I consider a truce?" he hissed, holding his ground.

o

Marcos stared at the seething Elite in front of him. Truly, inside he was terrified, but he couldn't let the alien think he was weak.

"Be reasonable," he said, again taking another small step towards the red Major. "You tried to kill me, you even admitted it!" Khazo scoffed at that. "Yes, we are enemies on different sides a war, but the tides have changed. Just like you said to Vato, if you could've killed us, you already would've done it." By this point the ballsy marine was face to face with the alien, which had even surprised him. He half expected to be stabbed and thrown off to the side mid sentence, but the Elite had listened. Maybe they were more like humans than he gave them credit for.

Khazo puffed a breath of air into the human's face, lightly pushing him away with his arm. As much as he hated to admit it, the courageous marine was right. When Xure was found, he was teetering on the edge of death, and it had only been about an hour and a half since then. His comerade was in no shape to fight, facing the flood alone would surely be a death sentence, as the minor's armor did not have any form of cloaking. Khazo put away the blades, crossing his arms over his chest. The humans stood in a semicircle awaiting the Elite's answer, the only sound heard in the large tunnel being the distant chirping noise of the machines as they burned away the last of the infection forms that had entered the mouth of the tunnel. Khazo took a glance at Xure, who gave him a small nod of encouragement. Frowning, the Major turned to the group of uneasy soldiers, facing the marine that had approached him in particular. "For the sake of my comerade, I reluctantly agree to a temporary truce. However, heed my warning when I say this..."

His sentence hung in the tense air for a few moments before he continued. "Make one false move towards me or my comerade," he gestured to Xure, "...and I will sever both of your legs as your allies watch, and leave you to die in this desolate place."

As he finished, Khazo's keen eye caught a bead of sweat forming on the forehead of a marine. This amused him inwardly.

The Elite let out a sigh and turned his back to the group of soldiers, starting down the dark tunnel, which was dimly lit by the blinking lights the machines had come from. Looking over his shoulder, he stared at them expectantly, beady eyes glittering in the darkness.

"Well?"

 **Woah. Sure hope Khazo doesn't end up stabbing anyone.**

 ***wink wink***

 ** _Anyways... the comments._**

Kivdon: This looks pretty good so far. I hope you won't fall into the same cliches that I always see in stories like these.

For example, it always starts with a human or an elite saving their enemy (in this case it was an elite saving a human). Then, particularly when the elite has saved the human, the savior gets hurt and the person that was saved then gets the crazy idea of healing their savior, who is still technically their enemy. After that, they implicitly trust each other for the rest of time. You're already looking like you're heading down that path. Then again, cliches are popular for a reason. So if you're going to write a cliché, at least make it an extremely well-written cliche.

- **-I can see why you'd think the story would be headed down this route, but rest assured, it's not like that at all. However, please understand when I tell you I can't reveal exactly what I have in mind for the rest of the story. If I opened my mouth, I would surely be fired from Supah's Stories Inc... And nobody wants to be fired from a company they had just made up on the spot 5 seconds ago**.

Kivdon (2): "Pulling the hammer back on his DMR,"

What? The DMR uses a bolt/striker system.There's no hammer to pull back. If you're talking about the charging handle, that's still stupid. That would mean that he either didn't have his weapon ready while in enemy territory, or he just ejected a perfectly good round for no reason.

 **\--Damn! I knew I was going to mess up somehow regarding the details of a weapon somewhere in the story... anyways, I went back and edited that part about the DMR on "The Plan", no more hammer for me :(**

 _Again, all reviews and criticisms are appreciated! Thanks for taking your time to yell at me for my mistakes :)_

 _I'll see you all in the next chapter._


	6. Omen

Kuis grimaced as he tied up the needle wound with the cloth from the sleeve of his shirt. 'Karma came back to bite me.' he thought bitterly, speeding up to keep pace with the aliens who were walking very quickly compared to the soldiers behind them.

It had been almost three hours since everyone had agreed to the truce. The group had been walking down the tunnel in silence since then, the quiet occasionally being broken by the whirring of the machines as they flew in and out of the small holes along the walls, or one of the marines unsuccessfully trying to start a conversation. No one had any idea as to how long the tunnel stretched, or even where it led, but they marched on. It's not like there were many options as to where to go anyways.

Marcos eyed the backs of the two Elites with a mix of curiosity and uneasiness, he still didn't fully trust them. After all, the red Elite had him held by the throat and threatened to kill him and his friends not too long ago. Maybe they were just waiting for the right moment to stab his squad in the back...

Something snapped in his brain. He couldn't take the boredom anymore, he hated the noiseless walk. Once more he tried to start talking, half knowing he would be ignored. "What are these flying things? Hey Red, did the Covenant build this place?" he asked, inwardly astonished when the two Elites stopped and turned to face him.

'Wow, that worked?' he thought, waiting to hear the Elite's response.

"You are... serious?" asked Khazo, cocking his head slightly at the marine. "This tunnel and the machines in it originate from the Forerunners. All you see here is what remains of these ancient beings, and where there is one structure, there is many. The Covenant could not hope to build something as..." the Elite clicked a mandible as he struggled to find the word. "Grand? Gigantic? Advanced?" As he continued, the humans had gathered into a small circle around him as he told them of these mystical people. "These places..." he gestured down the tunnel, "can be found on almost any planet, miles of these metal tunnels are everywhere. The machines you see are called Sentinels, they guard these places from intruders, like ourselves."

The humans stopped to look at him. "Like us?" they said in unison, turning their heads up towards the harmless flying robots in disbelief. "Okay... Why are they not attacking us like those pods if we're intruders, then?" said Marcos, still watching the robots fly back and forth above their heads.

This time it was Khazo's turn to be clueless.

"Maybe... there is a higher priority threat. The flood." he guessed, frowning as the marines stared at him with blank faces. Khazo shook his head, clearing the thought of drop kicking the human in the face for being so clueless. "These 'pods' you humans speak of, they are parasites called the Flood."

Marcos waved the comment aside. "Whatever! The name we call the enemy is not important, but what you just said is. Are you saying there are Flood in this tunnel with us?" he asked, to which the Elite shrugged its shoulders. "I am uncertain, that was simply a guess. However, I would not be quick to rule it out. The parasite is named the Flood for a reason. When they attack, they swarm, and there's too many to control, possibly even too many for the Sentinels." he said, turning to continue walking down the tunnel.

Trying to get the Elite's attention, he couldn't think of what to call them. Marcos scratched his head in annoyance, that was another thing he couldn't stand. Whenever he wanted to call for one of the Elites, his mind would start tripping over itself awkwardly as it struggled to find the correct word that fit the Elites, as he still didn't know their names. Along with not knowing their names, the aliens just referring to him as "Human", it felt like they were talking down on him when they said that word. Every time he heard the red one say it to him, he fantasized about stabbing it in the head.

"Hey, Red, Blue, what are your names? I can't just keep saying your colors when I address you, it's really starting to piss me off." he said, and the two Elites turned to face him. The red one spoke once more. "My name is Khoze 'Vekai, and my comerade here is Xure 'Rekee. You may call me by my name, or my title of Major."

Marcos felt relieved, he didn't have to resort to insulting the aliens to get them to cough up their names. Returning the favor, his hand swept over his squad as he introduced them one by one. "I'm Marcos, the stupid one is Kuis," he said, watching in amusement as Kuis put down his arm from waving to show him a rude gesture with his finger. "...and he's Vato." he said, ending by pointing at the marine.

The red Elite, 'Khazo' he remembered, rested his sights on Vato. "Yes, I remember him. He's the one who threw the grenade and tried to kill me twice." he said, crossing his arms at the marine, who was whistling and looking away innocently. "What peculiar names your species has, they are all so short compared to that of the Sangheili." Khazo continued, once again earning a blank look from the marines, which he'd come to despise. Groaning, he turned to them and began explaining. "I am Sangheili, just as you are Human. It is the name of our race, yet your kind simply chooses to call us 'Elites', which we are not fond of."

Marcos faced the Elite. "Why? Are you sure you know what 'Elite' means in our tongue? If anything, it's a compliment. It means you are superiors in your army, the best of the best."

Khazo's tense form loosened at that, his hard stare relaxing slightly. "I... admittedly, did not know this. All this time, my brothers and I assumed it was an insult towards our kind. To learn that it's a respectful title makes me feel quite daft." he said, turning away from the Human to think about his words.

After another couple hours of walking, Khazo spotted a light up ahead with his binoculars. From where he was standing, he could see that the mouth of the tunnel started to open up into a larger chamber, but he couldn't tell whether the light was from the shining moon or another Forerunner creation. As he relayed what he was seeing, behind him, the three marines slowed to a stop and sat on the ground, each of them pulled a strange bag out of their packs which they all tore open and began to eat from. "Why are you stopping?" said Khazo, frustrated at the unannounced break. "I haven't slept in a full day, and that run really tired us all out." said Marcos, spreading his pack so he could lay his head on it. "You said the cave opens up, right?" Khazo nodded. "Well, think of it this way. Those sentinels are here to guard us, and we're in the middle of an empty tunnel. If anything is coming, we'll hear it a mile away, so since there'll be plenty of warning. This might be the only opportunity to rest we get in a while."

Khazo wanted to protest, but knew it wouldn't matter either way. The Humans had apparently made up their minds, as each of them began to lay out the same way as Marcos. The Elite made his way past the marines and placed his back onto the wall of the side of the tunnel opposite of them. Shortly after, Xure came over and sat next to him. "I still do not fully trust them." he said in in a low voice so that none of the soldiers could overhear him. "And you are smart not to, but for the sake of our survival, we must adhere to this cease fire." said Khazo, his arm resting on the minor's shoulder. "If it puts you at ease, we can sleep in shifts to keep watch".

Xure knew it was very unlikely that the Flood would reach the center of this tunnel, Khazo was talking about the Humans. He nodded at that, and Khazo took his arm off his shoulder. "I shall take the first watch." he said, propping himself up more comfortably against the metal wall.

Marcos's heart was pumping hard in his chest as he ran through the door of the bunker and slammed it shut behind him. Thinking he was safe for the moment, he leaned against the heavy wood and panted, trying to catch his breath. He heard a grunt in the other room as an energy sword stabbed through the wall into the empty air between his arm and chest. Stumbling, he fell and backed away from the wall, which was being cut open. Marcos looked around in panic, strangely settling down as he acknowledged there was nowhere left to run.

He put his hands behind his back as he walked to the desk in the middle of the room, ignoring the constant yelling and cursing from the alien as he pulled out a notebook and a piece of paper. The wall was nearly torn through, Khazo was glaring at him with a psychotic look in his eyes through the hole as he stabbed into the wall again and again. Calmly, Marcos uncapped the pen and began to write a short message

"To whomever finds this,

Tell the guys I couldn't make it to lunch. They know what happened.

And please, make sure my little girl is all right.

- _Marcos Ranshire"_

As the red Elite broke through the wall, Marcos turned around, refusing to stare into the eyes of his murderer. He placed the piece of yellow paper in his shirt pocket as the alien picked him with his left arm and impaled the sword through his back, hoisting him several feet in the air. Looking down through the two points of the glowing sword with an open mouth, Marcos stared at the picture of his family on the side of the desk as his vision began to blur, his consciousness slipping into darkness.

Khazo perked his head up as he heard one of the humans wake up in a panic, the marine was hyperventilating and sitting up with cold sweat covering his face. Strangely, Marcos was looking at him in fear, as if he'd just killed someone. The Human scrambled backwards to distance himself from the Elite, who had no idea what to make of the situation.

After a few minutes the marine calmed down and looked away from him, his breathing returning to normal. "Why were you gazing at me that way?" asked Khazo, standing up to approach Marcos, who backed away instinctively. The human shook his head, "Just a nightmare is all." he said, inching over to his pack to try and lay down again.

Khazo's expression hardened, and he placed a hoof on the pack. "You still do not trust me, is that it? If I wanted to kill you, I already would have done it many hours ago."

Marcos really didn't want to talk about the nightmare to the alien that had killed him in it. "Okay." he said, hoping he would leave the subject be.

Thankfully he did. The alien took his hoof off of Marcos' pack and went back to sit down, looking at him unhappily. Marcos reached over and drug the bag closer to him, zipping it open to retrieve a small piece of crumpled yellow paper nestled deep within the bag, clutching it to his chest for a few moments before returning it to the pack.

Marcos wiped eyes as he turned his back on Khazo's questioning gaze, trying to get back to sleep.

Marcos saw the face of his wife, terror in her eyes, screaming for help as the white colored alien stalked towards her, a deadly looking two pronged sword looking weapon in hand.

He rushed forward and attempted to tackle the alien to no avail, pleading for mercy as tears welled in his eyes, begging him not to kill his wife. Smirking, the Elite grabbed him by the neck and threw him out of the window, his body breaking through glass and wood of the frame as he tumbled down the hill on the side of his house.

Rolling to a stop at the bottom of the hill into a bush, Marcos moved his head painfully to eye the side of the beautiful log cabin. Fire engulfed one portion of his once perfect home, he could feel the screeching of the wood as it tried not to collapse upon itself, and the crackling of the flaming flower petals that lined the intricately made walkway to the front door of the house.

Marcos was too injured and stunned to move, he was forced to stay still as he watched his innocent life torn to shreds in front of him by the single alien. Watching the magnificent cherry blossom that grew in front of the living room window burn to ash, he almost hadn't heard the nearby whine of a military warthog as it sped towards the scene. His hearing was muffled, almost as if he was underwater. "We got an injured civilian here!" said an armored figure, stepping out of the driver's seat pointing at him. The soldier had a helmet with a golden visor Marcos couldn't see through, and his body was covered with thick metal plating. He ran into the house with a shotgun in hands, and after a moment Marcos heard the sound of the gun firing. Bullet holes and purple blood sprayed over the kitchen's white wall, tainting the innocent drawings his daughter had stuck to the fridge that morning.

The armored figure emerged from the burning home carrying the lifeless body of Marcos's wife. "Anyone else, sir?" said one of the marines hopefully, to which the metal soldier replied with a shake of his head.

Marcos heard the thump of footsteps behind him before he was picked up between two people. "It's going to be all right, sir." They said, trying to calm him.

As the marines carried him to the warthog and sped off to safety, Marcos stared at the smoldering ruins of his home one last time before they went under the rise of the hill, using the last of his strength to wave goodbye to the place that bred so many happy memories before the cuts of the glass and the bruises from the fall pulled him under the blanket of unconsciousness.

'No. It's not. It's never going to be okay.' he mentally replied to the marine, finally submitting to the pull of sleep.


	7. False Hope

_**A/N:** Sorry for the bad transitions, it won't let me add anything other than the random letters, the usual "..."s keep getting deleted for some reason. Anyways, enjoy the read._

Click. Click. Click.

Footsteps echoed down the seemingly endless tunnel as the five soldiers made their way down the dimly lit hallway, following the beacon of light that burst from the ceiling up ahead.

Every step seemed to explode through the stagnant air, drilling into the heads of the anxious soldiers who could sense the divide wedged between the group.

Khazo and Marcos were both more serious than usual. Normally the Elite would glance at those behind him, curiosity glittering in the alien's small beady eyes, but now he had his gaze fixed forward towards the next room, deep in thought. Marcos held no plans to converse with his allies either, ignoring everyone just like Khazo.

The two walked on opposite sides of the pathway leading towards the end of the tunnel. Light rays from the cavernous room beyond beckoned them to come closer, invisible fingers pulled them all along towards their promised destination.

o 

Khazo stopped, the back of the Elite's shark-like helmet pressed against the back plating of his armor as he craned his neck forward to listen to a sound emanating from the center of the cavern, his appearance mimicking that of a cat with its ears flattened

Vato tapped on Khazo's shoulder pad lightly, standing on his toes to place his words beside the towering Elite's ear. "What is it?" he asked, his reply being a sharp look that told him to shut up.

As he backed away, Khazo turned and assumed the same position, crouching down on all fours as he started to crawl towards the lip of the tunnel, those behind him doing the same.

His head emerged from the tunnel's exit, looking at the space before him. A few feet ahead of him stretched a long platform which extended around the chamber, providing a walkway above the ground floor which was set several dozens of meters under it. Many doors lined the sides of the path tunneling into the metal walls, all flashing soft red lights indicating they were closed, which was not a good sign. The area seemed to be under lockdown.

Trapezoidal figures were placed all around the room in symmetry with one another, which Khazo recognized as light bridges, but most seemed too oddly placed to serve any real use. The most interesting part of the chamber happened to be in the center of the room below where the light of the moon was shining through.

A massive chasm was placed in the center of the room, in the darkness swirled foul brown clouds that stretched into the abyss below. Above it lay a circular glass plate that lined up with the chasm beneath and the opening above which the moon's taunting light shone through. Yellow and green holograms were being cast by brackets holding the glass, which emitted a light bridge that connected to the platform that ringed the room.

Vato looked to his right and found himself staring face to face with Xure, the alien's expression said it all. 'We're almost home free!' he thought returning a grin to the blue Elite, nudging him on the side as he turned his head towards an upset Khazo, who was still craning his head forward to listen to something. The red Elite took a worried glance at Vato, who dropped the grin from his face as he too concentrated to try and make out whatever it was that was troubling the alien.

Faint, yet distinctive noises of squelching and groaning from below the platform came to his hearing, and the marine's eyes widened as he prayed for his assumption not to be true.

o 

Khazo held up a long fingered hand, signaling for the others not to follow him as he crawled towards the edge of the platform. After mentally preparing himself, he stuck his head over the edge and his gaze, much to his horror, was met by a sea of malformed faces and writhing brown tentacles.

Hundreds, if not thousands of infected creatures were gathered under them, clawing at the metal as they unsuccessfully tried to climb up the sides of the wall. A loud screech pierced through the air, followed by the whirring noise of a rocket one of the undead marines had fired. Time seemed to slow down as Khazo ducked to dodge the rocket that missed his face by centimeters, he could feel the heat of the flames propelling the explosive.

The rocket made contact far above Khazo's head on the metal and exploded, showering small bits of debris onto his helmet. Rolling back to safety, he crashed into a huddle the group had made beside Kuis. Both of the red Elite's hearts were pounding, that was far too close. "Who knew they were such good shots?" he said, twitching a mandible.

o

Marcos stared at the charred metal where the rocket had exploded in disbelief. "Did one of those things just shoot a fucking rocket at us? There's no way way we can get to that lift in one piece!" he exclaimed, looking around with hopeful eyes. "Please tell me one of you still has a clip left, or even a grenade?"

Vato nodded, unclipping his last grenade from the utility belt around his waist. "Make it count." he said, handing the grenade to Marcos, who shook his head. "I didn't see where he was. Give it to K."

If Elites could sweat, Khazo would be pooling right now. He accepted the grenade with a nod to the head, testing the weight of the explosive in his hand. He had never thrown a human grenade before, but knew they worked almost exactly as their sticky Covenant counterparts.

The Elite took a bold stride forward while pulling the pin on the frag, throwing it right at the Flood carrying the rocket launcher. It's head followed the grenade mindlessly as it bounced from the floor towards it, tongue lolling as the bomb struck its face and engulfed the area around it in flames, ripping the infected to shreds with flak and fire.

Khazo paced past the group, ignoring the praise and the hand that clapped on his shoulder, congratulating him on the good throw. "That wasn't the only one with a weapon. The rest of the dead wield small pistols and rifles." he said, draining the atmosphere of any positivity.

The red Elite sighed, crossing his arms. "Xure, we shall cover the humans as they run beside us against the wall. Our shields will deflect the shots."

"Woah woah, this is not a good idea!" Marcos protested. "How do we know one of you won't just bolt, letting the rest of us get killed?"

Khazo growled and spun around, slamming his closed fist into the Human's chest, sending him sliding across the floor towards his two stunned allies. "I have shown you mercy, yet you refuse to repay in trust! Your insolence will be your downfall, Human. I have already given you my word, question my honor once more and I shall sever your head from your spine!"

o

Marcos stood up speechless, a hand clutching his chest. "There isn't another option, man. We gotta do this, it's not like we can go back to where we came from anyways." said Vato, trying to convince Marcos to cooperate.

He nodded meekly, hanging his head low as Kuis and Vato guided him to the sides of the Elites.

o

"Go!"

Khazo spread his arms out over the marines in a protective shell as he ran sideways beside Xure, his back to the horde of Flood below him who peppered their armors with shots.

The sound of ricocheting bullets and the sizzling of shields deflecting damage filled everyone's ears as they sprinted towards the lift.

Just before they reached the edge of the circular glass platform, Xure's shields broke.

The Sangheili screamed in agony as a bullet went through his calf, making him trip and fall out in the open only a few meters away from safety. Khazo turned to the sound of yelling, skidding to a stop as he and the three marines behind him reached the cover the brackets around the glass lift provided.

Xure held a hand out towards the group as he tried to crawl his way towards them when another barrage of gunfire met him, ripping through his body as he cried out in pain, his yelling subdued a moment later by a magnum round that tore through his skull and burst out of the top of the alien's head.

Khazo stared at the body of Xure in a state of shock, he couldn't believe that the warrior had been killed in the short run to the lift.

"Come on! Let's go!"

The sounds of moaning and gunfire from below faded into nothingness as Khazo stared at the corpse of the young Elite. He couldn't believe the warrior had died in such a short run to the lift.

"What are you doing?! Let's get the hell out of here!"

A feeling of dread rose deep within his heart as the Elite stared at the purple blood that started to pool around Xure's lifeless body, the liquid flowing to the side of the platform dripping onto the faces of his murderers.

Khazo was still with the Humans, but knew that he was all alone now, his only true ally lay dead in front of him. Long ago he had come to terms with the thought that a group of a few marines and Sangheili would not last long against the flood, but any hope the Elite had built up of getting out alive was cruelly slashed away along with the life of the minor.

Slowly, he walked to the circular glass floor, making sure everyone was aboard as he activated the lift, staring down at the cracks on the other side of the thick glass as it caught bullets the infected tried to shoot at them. "Damn, that was close!" said one of the marines, pointing down at a few dozen brown pods that had crawled over the lip of the platform where they were standing thirty seconds ago.

Khazo watched in silence as one of the infection forms scurried over to Xure's body, bringing up its tentacles as it tried to burrow through his torso. Right before the vile creature cut into the corpse to take control of it, Khazo's view was blocked by the tunnel the lift had gone through.

It seems the moon's beacon of hope was not what it seemed to be.

o

Kuis stood alongside Khazo, watching the pod stalk towards the dead Elite's body as the lift ascended through the tunnel, the gray walls surrounding them and cutting off the scene below.

He glanced at the lone alien who was still staring at the ground below him with sympathy in his eyes, but said nothing. The soldier knew from experience that there was no consolation for death.


	8. The Storm

A:N: Sorry for the long while of inactivity, I was really busy for the past few weeks. Also, laziness didn't help me much either. I'll try to get the next part out sooner! Anyways, hope you enjoy the read.

As the large elevator left behind the dull metal tunnel of Xure's tomb ascending towards the surface, the now smaller group of four beheld the bleak scene underneath the rising glass they stood upon. Below, hundreds of distorted and misshapen faces, and bodies milled about aimlessly, forever doomed to the pit they were trapped in. While the marines were barely more than acquaintances with the blue Elite, his death brought a heavy dread that wormed its way into their collectively bittersweet thoughts. On one hand, the soldiers were relieved to have escaped alive, yet, deep down, they each recognized Xure's death as a possible grim foreshadowing of their own fates. An awkward combination of thoughts, indeed.

The lift connected with the moonlit surface with a loud CLINK, shaking slightly before settling into the grooves of the smooth metal it came to rest on. Khazo was the first to step foot off the platform, taking in the new environment as he scanned the area around him, noting the drastically different scenery. Gone were the looming gray trees and colorless fog of the dreadful jungle, in their places were vibrant shades of brown and green from healthy evergreens that circled the oddly shaped metal structure that they had arisen from, stretching to the mountains in the distance. A sparkling river lined with sharp rocks flowed to the east of the structure, winding away from tall mountains and towards the god forsaken jungle they had escaped from, reflecting the moonlight through the spiny leaves of the evergreens like a liquid mirror.

The marines tagged along behind Khazo, falling in line as they each left the platform and walked onto the green carpet of grass on full alert as they took in the new unfamiliar sounds coming from the forest. The tense band of warriors trudged on slowly to the rushing river, flinching at the calls of the strange animals that hissed at them from the rim of darkness.

o

Marcos clicked on his helmet's communications system once more, cursing as he was met with the static hiss of dead air in his earpiece. "We really have to find whatever's scrambling our signals." he grumbled.

"I know man, it sucks, but where would we even look for what's doing it? We just have to keep walking." replied Kuis, stopping as Marcos whirled round to face him. "The range on that thing could be huge! If we don't radio for evac, we might not live long enough to walk from this place." he said.

"Listen, for all we know it could be one of the infected in the pit we just came from somehow screwing stuff up. If it is, what're you gonna do about it? Ask them 'cut it out'? I don't think zombies with guns will respond very well to nagging." interjected Vato. "It's just a gut feeling." began Marcos. "We could be walking for days until our shit starts to work again, do you know how far we've walked already? All around that damn jungle there's no reception, and you think going deeper into this forest hoping to get a better signal is a good idea? If heatstroke or starvation doesn't kill us, maybe a mutant alien space bear'll stop on by to do the job." he mused, successfully attempting to bug the others. "Stop being so pessimistic, think this through you moron! You're telling me you'd rather go try and find the thing messing with our comms in that jungle rather than doing a little walking? Needle in a haystack, there's just no way. I'd prefer going face to face with space bears instead of things that could turn people into zombies!" countered Kuis, already tiring of the small debate. "Matter of fact, why are we even arguing about this? Majority rules, if you don't like it, you can roll solo."

Marcos let out a long sigh, defeated. "Screw it, you win. If a space bear DOES exist, and it's within five miles of us, it would've heard you whining about wanting to go on a hike." Kuis snorted at that. "I'll make you a deal, if we're not mauled by anything in the next thirty minutes, we can play follow the leader with you tomorrow. I don't want to walk around in the dark tripping into trees." Marcos finished, brushing past Kuis's shoulder as he bent for a rock to build a fire place.

"Speaking of aliens, where's Red?" asked Vato, turning to see no sign of the Elite's shiny metal armor. Puzzled, the marines shared clueless looks between eachother as they scanned the trees, looking for a glint of moonlight on armor between the trunks. "K?" called Vato, unsheathing the knife from his thigh as he stalked towards a large splashing sound that came from the river, followed by the other marines. Huddled together tightly back to back, the three came over the small rise overlooking the river and saw Khazo staring at them from below, waist deep in the river with his gauntlet blades activated. "What are you doing?" the marine asked, his grip on the blade loosening.

o

Khazo looked away from the three humans clambering down the hill to meet him and returned his attention to the water flowing past his legs. Something moved in the river to the Elite's right, sending tiny ripples away in circles from the surface of water. Khazo snapped into action and plunged his blade into the disturbance as the humans came to a stop at the edge of the slippery rocks beside the river, watching as Khazo pulled his arm from the water to reveal a large pink fish, about the size of a human hand, skewered on his blade, his upper mandible curled in satisfaction as he showed off his catch to the impressed marines.

o

"Jesus, just don't run off like that next time you want to go out fishing, eh? Not too bad with a line 'n reel myself, tribe style can't be that much harder, can it? Plus, we don't know if any of those pesky bears hang round these parts." Vato joked.

Khazo frowned in confusion. "What?"

Marcos waved Vato's comment off. "Don't listen to him, he's being an idiot. Now, let's get a fire started so we can-" the marine stopped mid sentence as he stared at red Elite in disbelief, watching as the alien jammed the entire raw fish into his toothy maw. "What the hell? You can't wait to cook it?" he asked, watching as the poor animal was chewed alive between the Elite's mandibles. 'Or... for it to be dead first?' he thought, gagging at the noise of the sickening noises of tiny bones crunching.

o

The humans had started to set up their camp while Khazo was fishing. By the time thirty minutes had passed, the red Elite had caught five more, two of which he consumed himself. Satisfied with the amount he had gathered, Khazo got out of the water and made his way towards the marines, who were talking around a campfire they had erected while waiting on him. "Who knew hinge heads were such good fisherman?" asked Marcos under his breath as the Elite approached, just loud enough for him to hear. Khazo gave the human a dirty look as he threw the smallest of the three fish in front of him, stamping it into the dirt with a heavy hoof. "Resisting the urge to throw you in the river is an extreme test of self discipline." he said, annoyed.

o

After handing the last fish to Vato, the Elite sat with his back to a tree, watching the soldier curiously. The marine spoke as he took off his pack and pulled out a small cooking kit. "Back before I got drafted into the corps, I used to be a chef." he said as he set a small metal pan and tripod above the fire, grasping everyone's attention. "I worked at this little family owned seafood restaurant on Earth, I swear this fish looks exactly like one of the courses I used to cook..." he said, nodding to the marines. "Tonight, Casa de Vato's serving the damn finest fish you'll ever taste. And you," Vato said, this time at the Elite, "You get a taste, how bout it, eh? Consider it my token of thanks. Just don't get your hopes too high, I don't think I've ever had an alien order from my restaurant before."

After a while of stirring the pot and lightly salting the brew made of a small amount of vegetables the marine had brought along, a large raindrop landed in the fire, loudly sizzling into nothing as it came into contact with the heat. Vato turned to the dark churning skies overhead, his smile drooping as a fat raindrop landed on his forehead, his positive mood all but ruined. "Look like Casa de Vato's about to be closed for the night, thank god. Just a sprinkle now, but let's find a place out of the rain before we gotta start swimming." said Kuis, quickly wrapping his portion into a bundle as he rose from the ground. "I guess the time for follow the leader came early." he said, helping Vato pack up the rest of the supplies, after which he left to lead the group on through the trees.

Kuis looked back at his three companions, rubbing his chin. "I never liked the rain. Some people can sleep through storms like a baby, but I get white knuckles sittin' through 'em." he said, turning to allow the crescent moon in the sky to illuminate his back with a blue shine through the clouds overhead as he took point again. "Bad shit you don't want to go wrong always happen in weather like this." Vato stopped to face him. "Like what?" Kuis thought for a moment, pausing for a brief moment before tossing his head towards the trees.

"Let's go see?"

o

It seemed like the severity of the storm intensified with each heartbeat, gone from small droplets to an endless tidal wave that rushed from the heavens above. "Damn -- it!" shouted Kuis as his hand slipped from the slick bark of a tree, grunting in frustration as he fell face first into the mud. The soldier beat a fist into the moist earth as he stood up, letting the monsoon-like downpour of rain wash away the dirt on his face as he glowered at the churning black clouds above. "There!" Came a voice behind Kuis, pointing at something ahead he couldn't quite see through the veil of rain. "What is it?" he asked, turning to Vato, who stated "I don't know, looks like a house of some kind. Whatever it is, it's getting us out of this storm."

Slowly, the group made their way up the muddy slope, making use of the trees as handrails to help quicken their climb. Kuis took a step forward and fell once again, his leg submerging into mud that felt almost like quicksand. "Agh, little help?" he said, prompting Vato to come and unsuccessfully try to come and pull him out. "Wow, is this stuff dirt or unmixed cement? Maybe our alien pal could help out, he said, walking forward a bit as he waited for the others to catch up. "K! Need a little favor!" yelled Kuis, waving his arms at the Elite, who was crouching behind a fallen log beside him. "Come on!" he said, confused at the alien's stop. Listening through the constant heavy patter of fat raindrops, the soldier's eyes widened at the sound of human voices over the hill, along with flashlights shining through the dark, apparently looking for them. As he opened his mouth to call out to the silhouettes behind the beams of the flashlights, Khazo put a firm hand over his mouth to shut him up. "I will remain hidden for now while you tell them of our... truce. I do not wish to be shot at again." he said, lifting his hand as the Active Camouflage allowed the Elite to melt into the trees.

"Over here!" Kuis called to the people as Vato and Marcos came to his sides to help him out of the mud. A moment later, the stray beams of light focused on the trio, bobbing up and down as they inched closer down the hill towards them.

o

Khazo frowned, something was very wrong about the way this squad of humans approached his allies. They were being too cautious.

A deafening thunderclap exploded through the forest as a large arc of lightning shot across the sky, illuminating the figures of five raggedy clothed civilians behind the two with the handheld lights, some held various weapons ranging from pistols to crude shotgun-looking weapons, they were definitely not apart of the army. What stuck out most to Khazo were the expressions of pure unbridled hate on their faces.

Khazo moved closer to the trio's flank, form stiff as he prepared to defend the marines. The uneasiness in his gut only grew as time crawled along, he reasoned the strange group of civilians did not seek them out to offer a helping hand. His suspicion was confirmed a moment later by the noise of a handgun cocking.

A woman, badly scratched and limping, took a step forward into the flashlight's ray ahead of Kuis. Through gritted teeth and sagging eyes, she took aim at Kuis with a shaking arm, voice cracking with emotion as she snarled a single word that stunned the marines into a shocked state of bewilderment.

"Murderers!"


End file.
